Lunch

Sarah Jean's appearance threw my weekend plans for rest completely out. Even if she didn't want to do much beyond leaning on me, that was still more activity than I had expected. At least her presence had recharged me somewhat. I was tired but not as exhausted. She's better than coffee, that's for sure.

After I got cleaned up, we decided to go out for lunch. When I say 'we' I mostly mean her but I didn't argue with her so that counts as agreement. As it was a pleasant, sunny, 'warm for this early in spring in Wisconsin' day, we made out way to a place near the lake. It's not too fancy but it's nice. Mostly I remembered it being populated with windows, decided than should let in some sun, and desired that warmth. Thankfully it wasn't crowded and we were able to get a quiet table in the sun.

After our waitress left with our drink order, we sat there smiling at each other. “So,” I started, “what happened to you?”

“What happened to you?” she countered.

“I was chased around the Museum by an Egyptian god and his undead minions,” I answered.

“Weird,” she noted. “They did say things would be weird for awhile.”

“You heard that too then?” Sarah Jean nodded. “Any clue if this reality tear was fixed yet?”

“From what we were told, Mr. Midnight has fixed it,” she informed.

“Good, good.” I looked at her. She had dodged my question before so she wasn't interested in talking about the experience that led her to my door today. While I didn't want to rile her up emotionally, well, my curiosity is not a secret. “So what happened to you?”

Her gaze dropped to the wooden table between us. “I... I don't really...”

I tried to reassure her. “You don't need to give me all the details; just give me the gist.” Then I thought “To start with.” She didn't react to my thinking this so it seemed that our connection is still down.

She nodded. “Okay. We, ah, the Remainers, got involved with this weird crypt in Vermont because it had some writing it it that resembled an ancient version of an alien language that Doc can read. The crypt seemed to appear out of nowhere, probably as part of the tear. As we looked into it, there was a time traveler, we were stuck in a pocket dimension and there you...”

I interrupted her. “Yes I think we both know the result by now.” I thought about this for a moment. “Time traveler? Was it...?” She shook her head no. “But a pocket dimension?” She nodded. “As I understand it, pocket dimensions are artificially created.” This information did nothing to change her expression. “Don't you see? If it was artificially created, then it wasn't a 'real' dimension, not likely to actually happen. Nothing there was really real, so it's like it didn't happen.”

My attempts to be encouraging weren't. “So what if nothing was 'real' there, I remember what happened and that's what's important.” She paused as our drinks came. For the waitress we both smiled. When she walked away, we returned to our concerns. “It's not like it was a hallucination or a dream. I experienced it and it was real to me.”

“Well what if...”

She quickly cut me off. “No more what ifs or maybes. None of it changes what I saw.”

“Fair enough.”

“None of that changes the way I feel,” she continued.

“Gotcha.” I worked to back-pedal, concerned I'd gotten her all worked up again. “I'm sorry. Just trying to help.”

Sarah Jean sighed and smiled at me. “I know. I've spent enough time in your head to know when you're trying to help.” Her expression turned into a wicked grin. “I also know when you're just being difficult.”

I smiled back. “Isn't that all the time?”

“Close.”